Kiss Every Scar
by Wldwmn
Summary: Patrick Jane is going to get a good night's sleep for once… even if Lisbon has to tire him out first. Jisbon, pretty fluffy, hopefully not much angst. Rated T for a mattress romp, but nothing too explicit.


**Disclaimer: Just checked my pockets, and I still don't own them. If they were mine, I might actually get moments like the following on the show. **

**Summary: Patrick Jane is going to get a good night's sleep for once… even if Lisbon has to tire him out first. Jisbon, pretty fluffy, hopefully not much angst. Rated T for a mattress romp, but nothing too explicit.**

**Kiss Every Scar**

-Jane's doing it again,- Lisbon thought to herself, as she attempted a late-night briefing for the whole team. –He's spacing out because he never gets enough sleep. What are we going to do when we need him and he's too tired to work?- She sighed, then said aloud "Jane? Are you following along?"

"What? I mean, yes. Yes, I'm with you." Jane replied, but Lisbon could see the lack of focus return almost immediately. She stopped the briefing and closed the file on her desk, frowning.

"All right, that's enough for tonight, guys. Everyone go home and get some rest. Today was a long day and tomorrow's shaping up to be another. Good night."

"Goodnight, Boss," Rigsby and Cho said, and left her office.

"Goodnight, Lisbon," Jane said, and stumbled over to his couch. He collapsed on it in one fluid movement.

But VanPelt lingered. "What's wrong, Boss?

Lisbon considered her for a moment, and decided to speak her mind. "It's Jane. He's been so secretive these past few months. And now he can barely stay awake during briefings. I don't know. Maybe if he got some decent sleep at night he wouldn't be so wasted all day."

VanPelt was quiet for a moment, then actually giggled. "Well, Boss, there's one sure way to get a man to sleep, and that's to tire him out beforehand."

"Wow, that was inappropriate. VanPelt, I'm surprised at you." Lisbon said, and the shock was evident in her face.

"I'm sorry, Boss. It just popped out. I mean, everyone knows he's sweet on you-" VanPelt started, but Lisbon cut her off.

"No he's not. He stills wears his wedding ring. Jane's not looking for anyone else. He's too wrapped up in the past," she said. VanPelt could hear the note of regret in Lisbon's voice.

"And everyone says you must care about him, since you haven't killed him by now." VanPelt continued.

"I do care about him," Lisbon admitted quietly. "It's hard watching someone who is so obviously hurting brush off every attempt to console him."

"Or her," said VanPelt. "Take some of your own medicine, Boss. Do something that will make you both feel better. I bet if you went over to Jane's couch this second and told him he was sleeping at your apartment tonight, he'd follow you out of here like a puppy. Sure, he might make some crass remarks, but only to hide how happy he was."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, but said "I'll take it under advisement. Goodnight, VanPelt."

"Goodnight."

Alone in her office, Lisbon found herself actually considering VanPelt's suggestion. It had been awhile; the one-night stand with Mashburn had been fun but there hadn't been much feeling behind it. She didn't have good luck sleeping with men she had genuine affection for; it always led to complications she didn't want or need. Still, if she could convince herself that it was just to help him sleep, and therefore make their job easier, maybe she wouldn't feel so… _vulnerable_ about it.

Reaching a decision, Lisbon left her office and made her way through the bullpen over to Jane's couch. Jane was lying on his back, one elbow over his eyes. "Jane?" she said. "Are you asleep?"

"No," came the muffled reply. "Just resting."

"When was the last time you slept in a real bed, Jane?" she asked.

Jane sat up. "When did my sleeping habits become your chief concern, Lisbon?"

Lisbon paused for a moment, and the next statement came out in a rush. "That's it, Jane. You're staying at my place tonight. Get your coat."

A smirk immediately spread across his face. "At last, you admit your true feelings for me! Well, it's taken years of patiently waiting, but I can see I haven't waited in vain. Use my body as you will, dear lady, but be gentle with my heart."

"Oh stop. If you're going to be jokey about it, I'll take back my offer." Lisbon said, and glared at Jane.

"No no no. Don't take it back. I'm coming. See? I'm getting my coat." Jane said quickly, and jumped off his couch and across the room in record time.

-Just like an eager puppy,- Lisbon thought. –He could only be more obvious if he had a tail to wag. Grace was right.-

**Later that night…**

Jane reached for her in the darkness. "Teresa, I know you're here and I know you're naked, but I can't see a blessed thing. Can't we have a light on?"

"Jane-" Lisbon started, but he cut her off.

"Patrick. Intimacy means we can use first names."

"Alright, Patrick. I know this was my suggestion, but I'm nervous enough as it is. If I can feel you staring at me I don't know whether I'll be able to do this," she mumbled, embarrassed.

"But you're so beautiful. Any looks you get from me will be entirely of appreciation, I swear. What could you possibly feel you need to hide?" he asked.

"Well, for one thing, I have been in law enforcement for a while. I have some scars that aren't too pretty." Lisbon answered.

"Oh Teresa," Jane said, and reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. "We all have scars. Care to compare? I promise I'll kiss every one of yours, if you'll do the same for me."

She was standing in the middle of her bedroom floor, completely naked. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, just as bare. He held out his hand, no band of gold to be seen. "Come on. I'll even go first."

She finally smiled, and took his hand, sitting next to him. "Okay, go."

He twisted around to show her a tiny shining scar on his left shoulder blade. "That one's a chicken pox scar from when I was three years old. What?" he asked, when she didn't move. "It counts!"

She laughed and kissed it. "Okay, it counts." She pointed to a pale line across her right kneecap, about an inch long. "I had a broken mattress for a while as a kid. We were pretty poor at the time. One night a spring poked through and ripped across my knee. It didn't even hurt that badly, but it left a big scar." He leaned over and kissed it. "Your turn again."

He pointed to a much larger scar on his right elbow. "One winter I went skiing. I broke this arm, badly. They had to dig around and put a pin in my elbow and everything. It healed fairly well inside, but this scar stayed just awful-looking."

She examined it closely. "Hmm, doesn't look so awful to me. You're just self-conscious." He grinned as she lowered her head slightly to kiss it.

She took a deep breath, and pointed to a shallow divot on her left hip. "The first time I got shot. I was a rookie and I wasn't careful, and it nearly killed me. They got the bullet out and I survived, but I always get questions about this dent whenever I'm… close to someone. It's that ugly and noticeable."

He looked at her with kind green eyes. "Stand in front of me." She did, and rested her hands on his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her closer. She sighed softly as his warm breath traveled over the skin of her stomach, then he tilted his head slightly and kissed the scar on her hip. "It's not ugly. Someone might be curious, but not turned off. You're just hyper-aware of it."

She looked down at him and wondered –Who is making who feel better here? I guess maybe I needed some serious comforting, too.- She stroked his hair, and when he looked up to meet her eyes she noticed a tiny scar just below his bottom lip. "What's this one, Patrick?" she said, letting her fingertips brush it.

His eyes clouded over for a moment, and she regretted asking. But then he said "Well, my dad liked to gamble and drink. One night he lost every penny we had made over a weeklong hustle at the carnival. I was a teenager and a smart-mouth, so I said it was stupid and he was stupid and now we had no money and it was his fault. BAM, he punched me right in the face and split my lip. It really hurt and bled like anything. I guess I'm lucky the scar is so small."

"It's true. It's so tiny I've never noticed it before now," she agreed, and leaned down to press her lips against his. They lingered for a moment, but then she pulled back. "I have one more to show you," she whispered, tears prickling her eyes.

**The next morning…**

Patrick Jane was wide-awake at the office and smiling. He laughed and joked with Cho and Rigsby. VanPelt took one look at the change in his demeanor and gave Lisbon a thumbs-up sign. Lisbon blushed slightly before going into her office.

As she waited for the team to get organized for the follow-up briefing, Lisbon found herself happily remembering the previous night. The most memorable part for her hadn't been the lovemaking, though that had been just about perfect. It was when she'd pointed to a spot right above her left breast and said, "There's a scar here, though no one can see it. It's from my broken heart, Patrick."

He had gently pulled her close to him again. "Believe me, Teresa, I understand. I have one just like it," he murmured. And teardrops fell on her skin as he kissed her.

**The End**


End file.
